Protect Me Not ((Un)Professionally Yours 2)

“Just under nine weeks?” She shifted closer to him. “I can do that.”

He widened his stance, and his hands went to her hips, dragging her even closer, until she could feel his hard-on throbbing against her torso. “You don’t need time to think about it?”

“No.”

She tilted her head back, and he met her challenging look with a satisfied grin, before swooping and voraciously claiming her lips.

One of his hands left her hip to tunnel into her curls, fisting into the hair at the back of her neck and tugging her head roughly back to deepen the angle of his possessive kiss. Sealing their bargain with his lips, tongue and—as he nipped painfully at her lower lip—teeth.

Ty lifted her into his arms, and she squealed excitedly at the dramatic gesture. He was up the stairs in no time—barely removing his mouth from hers in the process—and shouldered his way into her bedroom.

He stepped over the threshold and stopped dead. He couldn’t quite hide his grimace from her as his eyes swept around the hideously pink room.

“And this,” he muttered, on a pained whisper, “…is where erections go to die.”

Vicki giggled and buried her nose in his neck, already addicted to the smell of him.

“The guest room is across the hall,” she murmured, nibbling her way up his throat, and he instantly turned toward the other door.

“I don’t have any more condoms. I had that one in my wallet for fucking ages, I nearly forgot I had it. Frankly, I’m astounded it didn’t break.” Vicki loved how growly and irritated he sounded.

“There are condoms in the guest bedroom en-suite,” she told him. He grunted, and made a quick detour to the bathroom.

Vicki nabbed a couple of condoms from the still-full box, and he carried her back into the bedroom, where had her naked and spread-eagled on the bed in two seconds flat. After which, he stood at the foot of the king-sized bed for a few moments, and stared at her in male satisfaction, before crawling onto the bed and settling between her spread thighs.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. Do you know that? Do you know how often I’ve thought of you? Of this sweet round ass.” His hand traveled to her butt and squeezed a cheek, his actions rough and a little painful. “These perky tits.” He scraped his stubble over one beaded nipple before sucking away the sting. She cried out and arched wildly at the sensation.

“I’ve often wondered if you would taste as good as you smell.” He laved her other nipple, before suckling deeply, taking most of her small breast into his greedy mouth. He lifted his head and smugly surveyed the swollen, red tips of her aching breasts. “But I’ve discovered you taste even better than you smell. You’re like the sweetest dessert. Did I ever tell you I have a sweet tooth, honey? I rarely indulge it, but right now…you’re exactly what I crave.”

God, he was turning her on with just words and the most fleeting of touches. It was embarrassing, but she was almost certain she was about to come. From just this. These almost nonchalant, teasing touches and his words.

For a man who rarely spoke, who had been almost completely silent during sex, and who had banned any form of—how had he put it…meaningless chatter?—he was certainly chatty as hell during foreplay. It was an unexpected side to him, and she loved it.

“I’ve made myself come so many times, just thinking about you. Imagining us together like this. That night you talked about blindfolds…fuck, honey, I couldn’t stop jerking off imagining that. We’ll do that, okay? But not now. Not tonight. Tonight, I want you to see me. I want you to see every fucking thing I do to you.”

He was kneeling now, upright between her legs, her mound flush against his hard cock. She rubbed herself against him, but he wasn’t moving. Instead, his hands left her, and he methodically began to unbutton his shirt. One teeny button at a time.

Vicki moaned and reached out to help him, but he gently diverted her hands, pinning them onto the bed beside her head. He smiled at her. A predatory baring of his teeth, that sent a shiver racing down her spine.

“Hands off for now, honey,” he said, with a soft tut-tut, kissing her quickly, before going back to unbuttoning his shirt with excruciating slowness.

God, she loved that he called her “honey”. It made her feel hot and melty, exactly like warm honey.

“Please,” she begged, uncaring of how desperate she sounded. Her hands fluttered. “Please, I can help.”

“You want to give your hands something to do?” Another shark-like grin. “Make yourself come. I want to see what you like.”

She moaned, and tugged on her nipples first, loving the way his eyes darkened at the gesture, before her hands stroked down the plane of her stomach, past the soft, almost smooth mound of her pussy. She spread herself with one hand and held her middle finger up to his mouth.